


Forever Nevermore

by NateyNight



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Takes place 10 years after "The End"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7141145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NateyNight/pseuds/NateyNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being captured and imprisoned by the Red Army, Tom finds himself against an old foe intent on breaking and corrupting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently looking for a beta reader for the story. If you have any interest in doing so, or if you'd just like to chat, feel free to message me on tumblr. User is UnityWesker over there as well.

Loud screaming could be heard from throughout the facility as Thomas, Tom for short, was led in chains to his new cell. After evading heavy pursuit from Red Army for months, he’d the unfortunate stroke of bad luck, the tiniest of errors costing him his freedom. His mind felt like a lead weight, ignoring the environment around him in an effort to keep from showing his rage as they lead him down the hallway covered from head-to-toe in heavy chains. Snapped from his train of thought by the masked ‘escorts’, they wasted no time throwing him into an empty cell and attaching the chains to the wall while another set of guards held him down tightly, exiting and triple-bolting the door behind them without a word. 

 

The eyeless man looked around. So this would be his new home for the time being, eh? He took a moment to observe his surroundings. The structure surrounding him was a 6 foot by 6 foot room complete with a mattress and a toilet. “Let it be said the Red Army treats its prisoners with proper hospitality”, Tom grumbled, sitting down into the mattress and cringing when he felt it practically fold beneath his bottom. The spiky haired man suddenly winced as he was torn from his thoughts, the constant sounds of agonized screaming and wailing finally hitting his ears in waves. Grabbing the pillow from the bed, he covered his ears with it, desperately trying to block the horrid sounds from his ears.

 

After a few minutes, Tom noticed the screaming was quieting down. Removing the pillow from his head he stood up and headed towards the door, to see if he could manage a peek into other cells. His eye sockets widened as he saw other prisoners collapsing all over their cells. Squinting, he could vaguely see a reddish gas being released from the vents of other prisoners. Letting a groan out, he walked, or rather stumbled, back to his bed. He looked above to see a vent above him also releasing the red substance. The eyeless man fought to stay awake, though with each breath it became more difficult. Finally, he had no strength left to fight the effects and succumbed to a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

When he awoke, Tom realized he wasn’t in the same cell as before. Compared to the other cell, this one was as big as the Taj Majal. Not to mention it had a comforting and nice vibe to it. 

 

Something was off about the furnishings, besides there being anything nice in the first place. He stood up and walked around the room, trying to figure out what was off about it. That’s when he saw the retina scan on the wall. It finally clicked. The cell was an exact replica of his old room from the house Tord blew up a few years back. Well, almost exact. The door was painted the same color as the rest of room and made of steel. It also had two small slots. One near the top of the door, another near the bottom. Someone was very obviously trying to make him feel at home, which honestly just put him more on edge. 

 

Tom flopped down on the bed, raising his head to stare at the retina scan, wondering what was inside the compartment it would open. He doubted it would be his long gone guitar, Susan. A quick look would probably ease his mind, if only he wasn’t so paranoid. His eyes darted across the room taking in his surroundings, trying to find something, anything, that would break the illusion that he was back home. Something that would remind him that he was in the Red Army’s custody and not back at home with his long dead friends.

 

After was seemed like hours, the sound of scraping metal awoke Tom, who appeared to have fallen asleep. The weary blue-hoodied man looked over to see the bottom slot closing and a plate of food and a flask sitting on a tray upon the floor. Staring at it until his stomach rumbled, the chained man stood up and sluggishly dragged his feet over to the door to retrieve his meal.

 

Sitting at a desk in the corner, Tom looked at his meal. Surprisingly it looked very appetizing. A piece of lightly seasoned chicken, some mixed vegetables, mashed potatoes, and a small cup of pudding. The eyeless man raised an eyebrow, shocked he was being fed such a hearty meal. It had to be a trap, hadn’t it? Suspicious, raised the plate to look underneath it. Nothing. On the tray where the plate had been sitting on the other hand, was a note. Curious, Tom, silently read it.

 

_Enjoy._

 

Tom flipped the letter over, looking to find anything else. He set the letter back down after finding nothing and picked up the flask, opening and smelling it. His eye sockets widened in shock, “No… it can’t be…”, he whispered and tentatively took a sip of what was inside, a smile spreading across his face and happily taking another swig. “Oh Smirnoff, my old friend, how I missed you!” He spent the next few minutes guzzling down the vodka he loved so dearly until at last the flask was finally empty. He smiled, content and began to slowly dig into his tray of food. 

 

About halfway through his meal, the alcohol finally hit him like a truck. It had been so long since he’d felt drunk but he didn’t remember it feeling this… awful…

 

Tom quickly stood up and stumbled over to his bed, collapsing onto it, desperately hoping the horrible feeling in his stomach would go away. He realized what was going to happen as he began to heave and tried to stand back up, to make it to the small bathroom attached to the corner of the room. He couldn’t even manage to stand back up. The drunken man felt the heaving get worse, and worse until finally emptying the contents of his stomach onto his bed.

 

A weak laugh escaped his mouth and his knees gave in and he slid from the bed and onto the floor. He swore he could hear the sound of the door open and close and tried to look over. Everything was blurred but he thought he saw a figure enter. Tom’s suspicions were confirmed as a faint sigh was heard. “I told… pa… don… too… ch… the… rug… ” He swore the voice sounded familiar, his head just couldn’t of where he heard it before.

The ill man felt weight from his legs be released and himself picked up. Suddenly he was placed in a tub and felt warm water hit him and his now apparently naked body. As he felt a wet sponge touch him and move around his body another laugh escaped him, “S-sorry Edd...guess I got..too dr-drunk… ag-again…” he let out another laugh as he felt the world spin and blacken before him.


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories are absolute hell.

Tom could smell the salt in the air and hear the ocean nearby; the warm sand beneath his feet comforted and soothed him. But something wasn’t right... everything was too comforting, too soothing. Without warning, a hand grabbed his shoulder and the eyeless man jumped.

“Is everything alright, Tom?” The voice came from behind him, and when he turned to look, Edd was giving him a concerned look.

The blue-hooded man gave a brief nod. “Y-Yeah! Of course! Just lost in thought, you know?”

Edd gave an unconvinced smile, his worries still in plain view. “Well, if you’re done, we’ve finished setting up the picnic, so come and eat.”

Tom returned what he hoped was a reassuring grin. “Sounds good.”

He and Edd headed down the sandy dunes to where Matt and Tord sat under an umbrella on a blanket chatting.

“Wait! The fucking commie is here? What the hell?” Tom yelled, earning concerned looks from the others.

“Thomas, what the hell has gotten into you?” Tord was the one who decided to speak up, anger in his voice. “You’ve been acting strange all day and now you act surprised I’m here?” The red-eyed man grabbed Tom and before he could react, forced him to sit down. Staring at Tom for a moment, a sad expression formed, “I’m worried about you, please tell me what’s wrong, Min kjærlighet.” the last part barely audible.

“I-” Tom was taken by surprise when Tord smashed his lips roughly against his, full of a passion he’d never felt before. Eagerly, he returned it.

When he finally pulled away, out of breath, Tom’s surroundings looked different. The nice sunny day had turned dark and stormy. The smell of the sea was sour and unpleasant. The once warm sand had become freezing cold.

Everything seemed to happen all at once.

Tord’s face had a sickening smile to it as the right side of his body peeled away, revealing scarred tissue and a robotic arm. “What’s the matter, _old friend?_ You seemed so happy just a minute ago.”

Tom’s eye sockets widened as he backed away and into Edd, who crumpled right on top of him. Tom quickly pushed him off, tears building in his eyes as he has saw his good friend lifeless. He never meant for this to happen, for Edd to get hurt.

Suddenly, Tom was pulled up by two freckled hands. Turning towards his helper, he was relieved when he realized it was Matt. “Matt! You scared the crap out of me!” A shiver went down his spine when he saw Matt’s dark expression. “M-Matt? Is everything alright?”

Immediately, the scenery changed again. Now he and Matt were in a familiar room made from concrete. The rebellion underground headquarters.

“DAMN IT, TOM!” The ginger shouted, slamming his hand on the concrete wall to his right. “I can’t do this anymore! Edd is gone! I’m leaving the resistance, and you can either help me fake my death or fuck right off!”

Tom reached for Matt, only to find Tord in his place. “It’s just us, constantly at war with each other,” Tord began, voice sickeningly calm. “Let’s see if we can fix that, hmm?” A cruel laugh erupted from the Norwegian.

* * *

 

Tom woke up in his bed, tears streaming down his face and his breathing heavy. Even though it was just a dream, he knew seeing everyone together had both mended and broken his heart. Seeing Matt and Edd reminded him of how he lost everything in one horrible chain of events.

It started with the cola ban. Once the Red Army gained power, the soda factories had been shut down and what little was left was hard to come by. Though Edd still managed to find some.

For the first year.

After that, it seemed to disappear altogether, leaving Edd angry and irritable. The man, who once had such an optimistic hope of Tord leaving his Army and heading back home with them, was now bitter and dying for revenge. So, during an attack on one of the enemy bases, Edd attempted to desert his post to try and find Tord.

He’d never made it past the first wave of enemy soldiers.

Tom choked up as he remembered the green eyed man completely riddled with holes from the hundreds of bullets fired at him. How those eyes were full of anger up until they dulled and his breathing had stopped. He and Matt weren’t even able to retrieve his body; they were ordered to retreat before given the chance.

After that disaster, the Resistance’s numbers greatly decreased; only a little over a hundred soldiers were left, when at one point, there had been around two thousand. Most had died during that horrible attack on the Red Army. Others, on trying to gather supplies.

No one deserted the Resistance though. When you joined, you were in it until the end.

Or so he had thought.

Matt had come to him in the middle of the night with tear-filled eyes and a plan to fake his death to escape the Resistance.

Tom remembered clearly how he looked. Long ago Matt had finally gotten his priorities straightened out and stopped putting how he looked in front of everything else. He usually wore black clothes, occasionally with his signature green coat, which was worn and tattered. While he still wasn’t the smartest, he did actually put thought into what he was going to do or say.

He did, in fact, put thought in his plan to leave.

It worked, no complications, no trail left behind, nothing. If anything it worked _too_ well.

The price of helping Matt? He was dead to Tom. He couldn’t contact him in the future for anything. Matt had agreed to that.

Tom snapped out of his trip down memory lane, only to realize he was wearing pajamas. A blue onesie, to be specific. In confusion, he tried to recall what happened last night, though nothing was coming to mind.

He pushed himself off his bed, and headed over to his closet, hoping to find something half decent to put on. Staring at the contents his closet held, he settled on black jeans for his pants. As soon as he put them on, a shiver went up his spine, unease settling upon him. That’s when his eyes landed on it.

The blue hoodie.

Something felt horribly wrong while he put it on, though for some reason it didn’t click for him what it was. Once the familiar item was on, he found himself snuggling against warm cotton, feeling as if it had just come out of the drier a few moments ago.

Without warning, Tom was hit by a flood of memories of his friends and the sadness he felt and ripped the hoodie off, panting heavily, now with a pounding headache.

Fatigue washed over him from the small endeavor so he headed into the bathroom to hopefully clean himself up and relax. Or at least relax as much as one can, being trapped in a room with no way out.

For the first time in who knows how long, the void-eyed man saw his reflection. It was shocking to say the least.

His hair was longer, though that wasn’t surprising as it hadn’t been cut in years. He hadn’t really noticed that it somehow had made it past his shoulders. Thankfully, the top was still the same anti-gravity beauty it had always been. Running his fingers through it, he found it was damp. _‘Odd’,_ he thought, _‘How did it get wet?’_ Trying to recall last night, Tom came up with nothing but the taste of bile in his mouth. Knowing full well that thinking about it too much would get him nowhere, he put the oddity to the side for the moment.

What the man noticed next was his build. Once well fed and somewhat pudgy, Tom was now extremely skinny and somewhat muscular from a mix of heavy lifting and a lack of food supplies. A few scars were also scattered here and there all over his body, the two most prominent ones being the one on his arm from the battle with Tord many years ago and a very large scar that went diagonally across his chest. Strangely enough, he still had no memory of how he managed to get it.

Void eyes scanned the rest of his body before stopping on his neck, as his face screwed itself into a reaction of horror. Barely noticeable until you looked close, purple tendrils were creeping up his neck.

With a shaking hand, the topless man made the motion to touch his neck. The moment his fingers brushed the odd tendrils, memories of his body in agony from needles and his body turning against him as bones popped and broke and reshaped themselves to make something new. Black pits popped back open, as the memories finally passed. Part of him wondered if this was a sign he was going to change again.

He realized his hangover was mostly gone at this point and found it much easier to recall the previous night. It suddenly hit him he wasn’t in his old home, nor was it Edd who had been taking care of him last night. Honestly, he wanted to break into tears right then and there, wanting so desperately for everything to be as it used to.

Quickly shaking his head, he tried to let the emotions pass, no idea why out of nowhere they were becoming so strong. Tom realized that meant someone had taken care of him last night but the question was who. A good theory was a guard probably was the one to do so, but another question to arise was how did they find out what had happened so fast. It was obvious the walls were thick, so someone having heard him pass out was out of the question. Tom could only assume there was a camera somewhere in the room. Although, now that he thought about it, it was obvious he would be monitored.

A sound jerked the prisoner from his thoughts. Recognizing it as the meal slot opening, he raced out of the bathroom and to the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone, anyone. Just as he reached the door, the slot slammed closed, leaving Thomas isolated once again.

Picking up what he assumed to be a covered tray with his breakfast, he made his way over to the worn oak desk. Plopping himself down, he uncovered his meal and let out a gasp at the huge breakfast before him. A stack of pancakes, eggs, orange juice, and a large amount of bacon. Raising an eyebrow, Tom wondered why there was so much. He ignored his curiosity and once again found another note, deciding to read it after his meal was finished. Quickly, he chugged down the orange juice. He was in bliss. It had been years since the void-eyed man had had the drink and, while not as good as Smirnoff, it still had a place in his heart. Though he did have to admit, it did taste different from the last time he had it. Probably his taste buds had changed.

Next, he began to dig into the eggs and bacon. The runny yolk mixed with the taste of the bacon had him scarfing it down happily, a relaxed look on his face the entire time. Automatically, he went towards the final part of the meal: The pancakes.

The moment he bit down on the fluffy discs, he was hit with a wave of familiarity. Slowly, the man chewed the food, eyes widening in fear as he tasted vanilla, clicking why it tasted so familiar. Desperately, Thomas heaved, trying to rid himself of the meal Tord had made him, unable to handle the idea of his enemy cooking for him. Or worse, drugging him.

After an hour or so, Tom found himself calm enough to read the note. Unlike the first one, which was hand-written, this one was typed.

_‘One of us will be by to talk to you soon about your conduct. Be ready at 6 pm’_

Again, there was no signature telling who it was from. He looked at the time on the nearby alarm clock on his desk; it was only 11 am.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tom got out of his seat. In a sudden realization, it dawned on him he was no longer chained up. As fast as the excitement came, it went as he realized he had no way to escape the base alive.

“But why would you want to leave?”

Eyes widened in shock as he looked around for the source of the voice, only for it to hit that he was the one speaking. Violently, he tossed his head back and forth, trying to rid himself of the thought. “Calm down, Tom. You’ve just been isolated a bit too long, is all.”

Looking around the room, the shirtless man tried to find something else to focus his attention on as a distraction. A small, buttonless tv caught his attention. He decided to make it his mission to find the remote, which for whatever reason wasn’t by the television.

When the food slot opened again at 2 pm, Thomas decided it was time to give up. The remote would probably be given to him later on, as a treat or something. Even though the food had been placed in his room, he had no desire to eat it after finding out his ‘old friend’ had been the one to prepare it for him.

Tord. Would he be the one to visit him? Part of Tom doubted it because he couldn’t imagine he was ‘high priority’ enough for the infamous Red Leader to visit him. But clearly that wasn’t the case, considering that it was him cooking Tom’s food and ordered to have Tom moved into a perfect replica of his room. Tord was clearly planning something, but for the life of him, Tom couldn’t figure out what.

For the next few hours, Tom laid in bed, lost in his thoughts. Finally, at around 5:30, he decided it was time to get ready. The least he could do was look presentable, Hell, maybe it would get him somewhere. Tom picked up the hoodie he had thrown to the ground earlier in the day and dusted it off, putting it on when he was done.

At long last, 6 pm rolled around and within seconds, the door opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to supercasey for Beta-ing this for me.
> 
> Next chapter should be out sometime in August/September


End file.
